<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Confessions by applepolastri</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468604">Confessions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepolastri/pseuds/applepolastri'>applepolastri</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>"oksana...", 3x08 :), Canon Divergent, F/F, LUV LUV LUV, Smut but barely, a lil angsty, but ends on a rather lovely note, happy pride month!, these a-holes own my heart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:48:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepolastri/pseuds/applepolastri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"My husband left me."</p><p>"I killed my mother."</p><p>It looked like they had plenty to talk about.</p><p>an alternate 3x08.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Confessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i apologize for this! it was written post-finale and the villaneve feelsies had taken full charge. this is also my first EVER attempt at writing any kind of smut, so i'm sorry if it's dreadful. i understand that the dancing scene doesn't take place in a hotel, but for all intents and purposes, let's pretend it happens in a hotel ballroom. enjoy this while i work on a plethora of villaneve one-shots and a four-part story, which i am incredibly excited about. once again, feel free to leave any requests you have in the comments and i will do my best :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They dance.</p><p>Neither of them knows how it happens, exactly, but they dance. At first, their movements are rigid and calculated. Eve thinks that Villanelle is trying to seduce her, and rather poorly. Villanelle thinks that Eve is only buying time with her, waiting for the person she actually wants to dance with to show. Really, they are just trying not to step on each other’s toes.</p><p>Eventually, they settle into a rhythm. <em>Left foot, right foot, a slight dip of the waist.</em> Neither of them says anything, of course. They dance in silence.</p><p>Then, Eve does something unexpected; she rests her head on Villanelle’s shoulder.</p><p>They are far from alone but the crowd is pure background noise. There is only them. Villanelle swears that she could hear Eve quietly whisper her name once, but she doesn’t again so they don’t address it. <em>Had she imagined it?</em> </p><p>They stay like this for a while, longer than either of them would care to admit. They stay until the crowd disappears and the music stops.</p><p>When Eve finally picks her head up, she is shocked to find that they are the only ones left. Most of the lights have been dimmed and the previously packed room is now deserted. She stumbles back, no longer touching Villanelle. “What time is it?”</p><p>Villanelle smiles at Eve’s concern. “Past your bedtime, probably.”</p><p>Eve rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She looks down at the ground and rubs her foot awkwardly against the grain of the wood. “I’m not ready to go to sleep yet.”</p><p>“Neither am I.”</p><p>“Up for a swim?” They suggest at the same time, their thoughts in unison. Villanelle smiles. Eve returns it.<br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
•••<br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div>The pool is as empty as the ballroom. Technically, it was closed. For good measure, Eve had given the handle a shimmy, not surprised to find that it was locked. Villanelle gently pushed Eve aside and worked quickly. She was nothing if not a master of intrusion. The lock quickly disarms, granting them access with a flash of green and a click. “I’m not even going to ask,” Eve shakes her head and enters as Villanelle holds the door open. Villanelle smirks. She likes knowing things that Eve doesn’t.<p>There is something almost eerie about the stillness of the room. The automatic lights shimmering underneath the water are the only source of illumination. It is silent, the sounds of busy London having long left. Even the city is asleep. They’re the only ones awake.</p><p>They undress in silence. While Eve carelessly tosses her shirt and pants aside, Villanelle takes her time. She is methodical about it; the boots come first. Her feet silently thank her, sore from spending the day confined. A button unclasped, she slips her jacket off of her shoulders and sets it on a lounge chair. Her pants come off next.</p><p>Villanelle catches Eve staring at her. She is all too familiar with the look of desire - she has known it a lot throughout her life; men, women, a shop owner, or perhaps a stranger in a bar. This is different. “Like what you see?” She teases as she pulls her t-shirt over her head. Eve mocks laughter like this is the most outrageous thing she’s ever heard, but that can’t hide the rouge gathering in her cheeks. Because behind that layer of playfulness, Villanelle swears she sees her smile.</p><p>Eve walks to the edge of the pool, sits down, and lets her feet dangle. She doesn’t look but she feels Villanelle sit beside her, so close they’re nearly touching. She can feel the heat radiating off of her skin. </p><p>“I thought we were swimming.”</p><p>“We are.”</p><p>And she can feel it setting in, that layer of melancholy inching dangerously close towards her as she thinks about <em>him</em>. She’s managed to go the whole night without paying him a single thought. Eve shakes away the image of him in that bed, their last meeting. Not now.</p><p>Villanelle must sense it too because her eyes stay on Eve a little too long before she finally gets up and walks to the other side of the pool. “No,” She shakes her head, “<em>This</em> is swimming.”</p><p>In typical Villanelle fashion, she cannonballs into the water, disturbing the previously still surface and totally soaking Eve in the process. When she finally comes back up, Eve’s eyes are wide and accusing, and Villanelle has to work to stifle a giggle. “You’re very rude, you know that?”</p><p>“Oh come on, Eve. It’s not even cold!” Villanelle says as if that’s the biggest deciding factor.</p><p>Villanelle sticks out her bottom lip and begins to pout. Eve scoffs but considers her options. Would she rather get in willingly, or be dragged in hand and foot by Villanelle?</p><p>For this reason, she pushes herself off the pool’s edge and slides into the water. Not cold, my ass. It feels like sheets of ice against her skin. “Ugh! Liar!”</p><p>The blonde tilts her head and smiles. “I had to get you in here somehow, didn’t I?”</p><p>Eve’s body adjusts quickly. Soon enough she is in a back float, the gentle lapping of the water against the wall filling her head. She can’t remember the last time she went for a proper swim. As a child, she swam nearly every day. Her house was the only one in the neighborhood with a pool, so the children from a few houses down would come over and they’d spend the day having splash fights, practicing their handstands, and seeing who could hold their breath the longest. She thinks about one game in particular, which was more of a test really; she’d lie face down, pretending to be dead in the water because, well, would anyone really notice if she drowned? She always ran out of breath before her parents had the chance to react, but she doubted they would be too heartbroken. She has a sudden urge to flip herself over and play this game with Villanelle. <em>The answer</em>, she decides, one way or another, <em>would be all too cruel</em>. She resists.</p><p>Through the lull of the water, there is a sound. It’s a voice, but Eve can’t quite make out what they’re saying. <em>Is she dreaming?</em></p><p>“Eve!”</p><p>She sits up so quickly and violently that she almost plunges face-first into the water. Villanelle is looking at her with concern, her eyes as wide as saucers.</p><p>“What?” Eve’s voice echoes off the walls. She can feel her heart thumping beneath her chest, going about a million miles a minute.</p><p>Villanelle holds both of her hands up in innocence. “I asked what you wanted to be when you were a child.” She isn’t entirely sure why Eve is shouting at her.</p><p>“Oh, um…” Eve scratches her head. She can’t help but feel a little bad now about her outburst. The truth was that ever since childhood, she’d dreamed of working for MI6. But that was a terribly boring answer, so she threw that out and quickly made something up. “An astronaut.”</p><p>Villanelle raises an eyebrow. There is something in Eve’s voice that suggests she is lying, but Villanelle decides to play along. “And is this still a goal of yours?”</p><p>“Definitely not. Space is fucking terrifying.” Eve’s heels push off the bottom of the pool and she gently bobs up and down. “What about you?”</p><p>Villanelle hesitates. In her entire life, she can’t pinpoint one person who’d ever asked her that question before. <em>What did she want to be?</em> When she was with her mother, she wanted to disappear. In the orphanage, she wanted to be powerful. With Eve, she wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe she wanted to be Oksana. </p><p>She briefly thinks about lying, but she knows that it wouldn’t do her any favors. Eve knows she’s never wanted to be a dentist or a teacher. “I’m not sure I wanted to be anything.”</p><p>Eve clears her throat. “So you didn’t always want to…” She trails off, but Villanelle knows what would come next.</p><p>“Kill people? No, Eve.” She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to kill people. Maybe in the beginning, when it still gave her that intoxicating rush of adrenaline and flood of endorphins. But now, here, in this moment?</p><p>Eve doesn’t pry any further. An assassin saying she didn’t (<em>or is it doesn’t?</em>) want to kill people seems unlikely. She shouldn’t believe her. They’ve played this game before. She shouldn’t believe her, but she does.</p><p>They sit in silence for a while. Both of them cast the other sideways glances, refusing to look each other in the eye. Watching Villanelle’s hair float up around her like that, Eve realizes this is the first time she’s seen it down. <em>It’s like strands of gold.</em></p><p>Villanelle is the one that breaks their iron curtain. “The dancing… I wish we could have stayed like that forever.” Her voice cracks slightly at the end.</p><p>This is the most real thing that Villanelle has ever said. It’s much, much different than the desperate “<em>I love you</em>” in Rome. Eve smiles and nods. She was sitting with Villanelle now, but somehow, that dance had seemed like their swan song. The endless chase was over. “Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it?”</p><p>There is nothing left to say. </p><p>Villanelle’s mouth falls open. “Oh my god.”</p><p>Eve is alarmed and looks around to find what has Villanelle all bothered. “What? What is it?”</p><p>Villanelle’s eyes light up with excitement. “They have a sauna here!”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>•••</p>
</div><p>Eve thinks about refusing to take her clothes off. But Villanelle is staring at her, patiently waiting, already wrapped in a fluffy white hotel towel.</p><p>They’ve already undressed in front of each other once tonight. Villanelle wants to say, <em>Twice in one night, huh? You really know how to treat a girl</em>, but her tongue feels like cotton and Eve … Eve is naked. </p><p>For a split second.</p><p>If you asked either of them what happened in that sauna, they wouldn’t tell, not in a million years. This was just for them.</p><p>Through the clouds of steam gathering in the tiny room, Villanelle looks over at Eve. She’s surprised to see a tear rolling down her cheek.</p><p>She wants to reach out and touch her, to wipe her tears away.</p><p>"My husband left me."</p><p>Eve, who had been trying to avoid this very topic all night, gives in. Maybe it’s the steam that makes her heart pop like a balloon.</p><p>Of course, Villanelle knows this. It’s no secret that she always thought their marriage was doomed. Eve had outgrown Niko. But for the first time in her life, Villanelle isn’t sure what to say. So, she blurts out what she deduces to be the most logical follow-up.</p><p>"I killed my mother."</p><p>Eve simply stares at her. She doesn’t ask for an elaboration, which Villanelle is grateful for.</p><p>She takes a chance. The way Villanelle is looking at her now, the way her eyes have softened…</p><p>Eve kisses her. This encounter is nothing like the bus. While it had been a welcome surprise at the time, that kiss was full of anger that neither of them had the energy to unpack. No, this kiss was gentle. The nerves and perhaps giddiness was radiating off the both of them.</p><p>Villanelle kisses her back. Their eyes are closed, but she can feel her towel begin to slip. She makes no attempt to retrieve it. Her focus has gone to Eve’s tongue in her mouth. </p><p>Villanelle's touch is gentle, which surprises Eve. She'd imagined this moment in a number of different ways but never had it gone anything like this. For one, she’d never been crying. She’d pictured being pinned against a wall or pushed back onto a bed, but this was better.</p><p>At some point, Eve loses her towel. She wants to feel her skin against Villanelle’s. The rising and falling of Villanelle above her as she kisses her makes Eve shiver.</p><p>
  <em>Poor Eve. She was so starved for touch.</em>
</p><p>Villanelle’s kisses move down, over Eve’s neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. When she reaches her breasts, she takes her time. Feeling Eve tremble from the gentlest touch is turning her on. She sucks on her hardened nipples and gives the slightest smile when she hears Eve moan.</p><p>Her hand travels downwards until it finds Eve’s clit. She’s swollen and already wet.</p><p>“Say my name, Eve,” Villanelle commands as she rubs in small circles, taking pleasure in the soft sounds escaping her mouth.</p><p>“Oksana…”</p><p>Hearing her given name usually makes her skin crawl. But there’s something about the way it sounds coming out of Eve’s mouth that she could get used to.</p><p>Eve comes hard and fast, faster than normal. She arches her back and lets out a loud sigh. Her weight collapses as she attempts to steady her breathing.</p><p>This, as much as their spinning in the ballroom, is a dance, perhaps an even more delicate one.</p><p>Nobody says anything for a while, but it’s not quiet. Their silences somehow always manage to be the loudest.</p><p>Eve is crying again. “Eve...” Villanelle’s heart twinges. She can see that Eve is in pain. She wants nothing more than to be able to take it away, but she can’t. Villanelle wipes away her tears with her thumbs and gently kisses the spots on her cheeks where they were. “Please don’t leave me,” Eve whispers so quietly she’s nearly silent. She melts into Villanelle like butter. “Never,” Villanelle responds gently but firmly, and she means it. She may not be able to take Eve’s pain away, but she can make sure she never feels it again.</p><p>She kisses the top of Eve’s head and holds her like it’s the end of the world. “Never.”</p><p>
  <em>Fin.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>go back and reread this while listening to fear of the water if you haven’t already. that’s it. that’s the tweet.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>